Rose
by acci0tardis
Summary: A story following the time when Hermione is pregnant with Rose and Rose's birth.
1. Rose Petals

Hermione stood up, wiping her hand across her forehead. Whilst the warmth and sunshine was more than welcome in early spring, it made gardening a lot more strenuous. As she ran her hand through her hair, Ron stepped out of the back door into the garden, holding two glasses of lemonade.

"Thought you could use a drink," He said, as though he'd read her mind. Grinning, he joined her as she sat down on a wooden bench and handed her a glass.

"You know," He said, as she leant her head back and sipped her glass, shivering slightly as the cool liquid hit her teeth. "You could do the gardening by magic..."

"I know," She said lazily. "But, as I have told you on many previous occasions, Ronald, I like doing it by hand. It reminds me of my childhood."

"But gardening!" Ron said incredulously. "It just seems so pointless..."

"Go inside then," She said, jumping up and returning to the rose bed.

"Nah," Ron said airily, "I like it here." He put his feet up on the bench, resting his head on his arms, admiring Hermione's figure as she worked. She was wearing a white, sleeveless blouse tucked into short, denim shorts, accompanied with a gold charm bracelet that Ron had given her for her twenty first birthday. The bracelet currently only held two charms; a large, gold '21' and a plain gold heart, the latter of which Ron gave to her on their wedding day.

Setting down his now empty glass, Ron stood up and went to stand behind Hermione, placing his hands on her hips. When she ignored him and continued with the gardening, he rolled his head onto her shoulder, kissing her cheek.

She giggled and kissed him back, before continuing digging a hole in the earth.

"Stop gardening for a bit," He said gently, wiping some earth from her face.

"But-" She protested, but was cut off as his lips brushed hers. He ran his fingers through his hair and broke their kiss, laughing slightly.

"What?" She said, slightly irritated.

"You've got a rose petal," He said softly, taking the petal out of her hair and waving it in her face before dropping it behind him.

"Oh," She laughed and then kissed him passionately, her hands furiously undoing the buttons to his shirt as he held her in his arms. They fell to the floor, Hermione ripping off his shirt as his hands slid up her blouse.

A short while later, Ron sat up, laughing, as Hermione hurried to put her shorts and blouse on.

"I can't believe we just did that," She whispered.

"We've done it before," Ron pointed out.

"Not in the garden!" She hissed, though her tone was light. "Come on, Ronald, put some clothes on."

Grinning, Ron pulled on his boxers and shorts.

"C'mon," He said lightly, putting his arm around Hermione's waist and leading her back into the house. "I've had enough of the garden for one day."

That night, Ron had fallen asleep by the fire as they'd watched one of Hermione's favourite shows on the TV. Sighing, she stood up, kissed his forehead and went upstairs. She went into the bathroom, glancing up at her reflection as she brushed her teeth. It was then she noticed a small, clear bottle of potion sitting on the cupboard behind her. Her eyes widening in shock, she made a mental note to tell Ron in the morning.


	2. Never Make Mental Notes

Author's Note: I'm really not happy with this chapter, but I wanted to get something written and published before I go away tomorrow, so this will have to make do. Hopefully I'll have time to write a little bit while I'm away and I'll try and get a chapter up when I get back next Friday, but it's unlikely. Thanks for all the reviews!

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><p>As May turned to June, it became clear to Ron and Hermione that, once again, the English summer had been short lived. They had contemplated a holiday to Hermione's parent's holiday home in Provence, but neither of them had been able to get the time off work.<p>

Instead, one Saturday morning, Ron sat on the sofa, reading _Witch Weekly._

"I really don't know why you get this," He contemplated, as Hermione came into the room. "Pile of crap. It doesn't even make any sense."

"I know..." Hermione murmured. "I get it for the recipes."

"You sound like my mother," Ron sighed, smiling. When Hermione didn't return the smile, but continued to look anxious, his smile faded to a frown. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"Well..." Hermione said slowly, taking sudden interest in her nails.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron asked gently. "Come on, sit down."

Hermione allowed him to guide her onto the sofa next to him. "Remember that day... in the garden?"

"The garden?" Ron asked, confused. "OH, yeah, I remember the garden," He added, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Well," Hermione stammered. "We didn't – we didn't use – anything."

"We didn't use anything? Wha- Oh." As comprehension dawned on him, Ron's face froze.

Hermione sat in silence for a moment, shaking slightly.

"Oh," Ron repeated. Then, to Hermione's surprise, his face split into a grin. "Oh well."

"W- What?" Hermione said incredulously.

"Oh well," He repeated. "If you get pregnant, then you get pregnant. We're ready, aren't we?"

"I guess so," Hermione nodded, smiling shyly. "I'm glad you said that, Ronald."

"Why?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. He really was slow. "I'm pregnant."

Ron laughed. "That's bloody brilliant!"

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Hermione asked tearfully.

"Yes!" He reached across and hugged her. She allowed him to hold her close, burying her face in his chest. After a while they pulled apart.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Can we call the baby Chudley?"

"Are you sure James will be alright in The Leaky Cauldron?" Hermione asked anxiously. "I mean, it can get quite loud in there, can't it?"

"He'll be fine, Hermione," Ginny said, waving a hand. "Besides," She jerked her head towards the throng of reporters that swam behind them. "We'll have to get a private parlour anyway."

"I suppose so," Hermione said, quickening her pace to keep up with Harry and Ron, who were charging ahead, through Muggle London and as far away from the press as they could get.

Ron pushed through the crowd, following Tom to the back of the pub and upstairs to Room Eleven. He ducked under Tom's arm as the latter held the door open and fell into one of the chairs, quickly followed by Harry, Hermione and Ginny with James.

"Thanks, Tom," Harry nodded appreciatively as the barman closed the door on the reporters.

Tom bowed slightly, then said, "You know what to do, Mr Potter," before apparating back downstairs to the pub.

"Right," Harry said, getting up. "What does everyone want to drink?"

"Firewhisky," Ron mumbled.

"I'll have a water, thanks," Ginny grumbled. "Wish I could have firewhisky..."

"I'll have a butterbeer, please," Hermione said, earning odd looks from Harry and Ginny, she added defensively, "What? It's early!"

Hoping that neither Harry nor Ginny had noticed the slight pink tinge to Hermione's cheeks, Ron offered to take James off Ginny for a bit.

"Thanks," She said, handing James to her brother.

"He's so lovely," Hermione whispered.

"That's what you think," Ginny complained. "Wait 'til you have kids, you'll be singing a different song."

"Oh, I think that'll be a while, yet," Hermione said, her voice rather higher than usual. She made a conscious effort to cover her mouth; she always had been an awful liar.

The three of them sat in silence for a while, watching Harry order the drinks via a portrait of the previous bar owner that hung in the room. Tom Senior could travel between each private parlour and the main bar, taking orders for everybody and making sure they reached his son.

"So," Ron said, opening his firewhisky as soon as Harry plonked the bottle on the table. "What's new with you guys?"

"Well, actually," Ginny said, sipping her water nervously. She glanced up at Harry, who nodded encouragingly. "I'm pregnant!"

"You are?" Hermione gasped. "Gin, congratulations!" She jumped up and ran around the table to hug Ginny, then kissed Harry on the cheek. "How far along are you?" She asked.

"About ten weeks," Ginny grinned, accepting Ron's one armed hug.

"Gosh," Hermione said. "How are you feeling?"

"Apart from being absolutely bloody terrified at the idea of having two kids under the age of one?" Ginny joked. "Absolutely fine."

"Well," Hermione said, hugging Harry. "Whilst we're on the subject of news..."

She drew her breath, ignoring Ron's look of alarm. "I'm pregnant too!"

"You're kidding?" Ginny squealed. "Hermione! That's amazing!"

"I know!"

"Er, Hermione?" Ron said, his eyebrows raised. "I thought we weren't going to tell anyone yet?"

"I'm sorry!" She said apologetically. "But I couldn't hold it in! And we're going to have kids that are born a month apart, it's amazing! Harry and Gin won't tell anyone, will you guys?"

"Nope," Ginny said.

"Our lips are sealed," Harry agreed, slapping Ron on the back reassuringly.

That evening, Ron and Hermione sat in their living room. Hermione's head rested on Ron's shoulder whilst he stroked her hair absent-mindedly.

"Do you want the baby to be a girl or a boy?" Hermione pondered, sitting up slightly.

"I'm not really fussed," Ron said, tracing circles in her hair. "But I think I'd like one of each, eventually."

"We'll see how the first one goes, shall we?" Hermione joked, "But yeah, one of each would be nice."

"What about you?" Ron smiled, "Which would you prefer?"

"I'd love a girl," Hermione gushed. "I'd love to read her stories and talk to her and plait her hair and buy her cute little clothes... Then again, I'd love to watch you teaching our son how to play Quidditch..."

"Not a bad life," Ron mused. "Tell you what," He sat up, pushing Hermione away from him so they sat with their eyes level. "Why don't we make a pact?"

"A pact?" Hermione repeated, her eyes widening.

"Yeah, a pact," He said. "How about, unless this baby turns out to be some kind of monster child, we keep trying until we get one of each?"

Hermione blinked. "Really?"

"Well, yeah," Ron said seriously. "That way, we each get our dream, don't we?"

Hermione looked at him for a moment, chewing her bottom lip. "Okay," She said finally. "But can we draw the line at five? No offence, but I really don't fancy following in your mother's footsteps. I'd still like a job four years down the line."

"Five's fine," Ron grinned.

"So," Hermione said, a note of mischief in her voice. "How do we seal the deal?"

"I can think of a way," Ron whispered, leaning in to kiss her.


	3. Get Better Than This

Hermione awoke early on Saturday morning. Instinctively, she clutched a hand to her stomach, feeling the familiar wave of nausea rush over her. She jumped up and bolted to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet just in time.

She accepted the piece of toilet roll Ron was holding out for her. Every morning she would wake him as she rushed to the bathroom, and every morning he would insist on accompanying her and making sure she was okay, despite her protests.

"Thanks," She muttered, wiping her mouth and taking a sip from the glass of water Ron had conjured out of thin air.

"You finished?" Ron yawned, stroking her hair.

"I think so," She said shakily, standing up. "I'll go and get some crackers..."

"Nuh-uh," Ron said disapprovingly. "I'll get them, go and lie down, love."

She smiled weakly at him and headed to the bedroom, first sitting gingerly on the bed, and then slowly lying back so as not to upset her stomach, pulling the duvet over her. She hated this. She hated not being able to everything for herself. Whether it was because she had spent so much of her childhood alone, Hermione did not know, but she was a fiercely independent woman. She would rarely accept help off of anyone, even Ron. She hated that he wouldn't allow her to walk down the stairs unattended in the mornings, she hated being treated like someone who was at high risk of falling and breaking her neck or having a breakdown. The only reason she allowed Ron to be so protective of her was because he constantly expressed his guilt about how she had to go through all the suffering when it came to their baby. It wouldn't be too long, however, before she snapped.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Ron came into the bedroom, his wand keeping two mugs of tea and a plate of plain crackers balanced in the air in front of him. The mornings had become a routine. Hermione would wake up and around half five – much earlier than either of them usually cared to start the day – and would wake Ron up in the process. He would hold her and comfort her whilst she was sick and send her back to bed, where the two of them would sip on their tea and Hermione would nibble at some crackers.

"How long's this morning sickness stuff supposed to last?" Ron said thoughtfully, placing Hermione's mug on her bedside table and handing her the plate.

"No more than about four weeks, although it differs from person to person," Hermione recited. She had taken it upon herself to read pregnancy books as though studying for a N.E.W.T exam.

"Right..." They sat in silence for a moment, before Ron said, "So, you've had it for, what, three weeks?"

"Yeah," Hermione said gravely. "And it's not as bad as it was before. I think I can see light at the end of the tunnel."

"Brilliant," Ron smiled, sipping his tea.

"So how's Hermione doing?" George asked absent-mindedly, running his finger over a list of purchases.

"Not too bad," Ron said fairly. "But this morning sickness is a kiler."

"Ha," George laughed dryly. "You haven't seen the half of it, dear brother."

"What?" Ron said, his head snapping up from the stock list he'd been checking.

"You've got the worst to come," George said grimly. "Cravings, hormones and then the actual birth... Merlin, the birth... Labour. Hours and hours of it." He chuckled at the horrified look on Ron's face. "Good luck, mate," He snorted, clapping Ron on the back as he walked through to the front of the shop.

"He's finally asleep," Ginny said, breathing a sigh of relief as she walked into the kitchen. "How we're going to manage with two kids, I'll never know."

Harry simply smiled wearily at her, the silence interrupted by the growling of Harry's stomach.

The noise seemed to awaken Ginny from a trance; suddenly, she leaped to life.

"Sorry," She said, frantically dashing around the kitchen. "Dinner shouldn't have been this late, but I was so exhausted I took a quick nap after I'd written my article for the week and... well, I didn't wake up until James started screaming. That was four hours! Then it's taken me three and a half hours to get the little git to shut up... I'm sorry!" She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, cursing hormones as she shovelled potatoes onto Harry's plate.

"Ginny," He murmured, jumping up and striding over to her. He placed his hands on her hips, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I shouldn't be working this late; it's not fair to you. I know that little bugger is bloody hard work and I know you being four months pregnant isn't really helping the situation." He paused, kissing her cheek. "I'll talk to Kingsley in the morning and see if I can change my hours so I finish earlier, even if it means getting up at five to fit in the hours."

Ginny sniffed. "You can do that? They'll let you change your hours, just like that?"

"They should do," Harry muttered. "Head of the Auror Office and Harry bloody Potter, I'm pretty sure I can do what I like." He winked at her to reassure her he was joking, kissed her once more and set about laying the table for the two of them.

It was half eleven by the time they had finally sat down to dinner. Harry stabbed his fork into a piece of beef and raised the fork to his mouth, preparing to savour every mouthful as he ate for the first time since breakfast.

Then the doorbell rang.

"You have got to be kidding," Harry sighed, dropping his fork onto his plate with a clatter. Ginny made to get up, but he pushed her down gently. "Eat," He told her, tucking in his chair and heading for the door.

As he walked down the hall, an angry fist began to pound at the door. James' screams soon filled the house, and Harry cursed whoever it was that had awoken his son as Ginny dashed from the kitchen up the stairs to sooth him.

He opened the door to see Ron standing there.

"Thank you," Harry scowled. "I don't know what the hell you're here for at this time, but you've just woken my son, when your sister spent the best part of three hours trying to get to sleep. You also interrupted our dinner, before I'd even taken the first bite, when I haven't eaten in nearly eighteen hours. So thanks, Ron, thanks a lo- What's wrong?"

Ron looked absolutely terrified. But not terrified like Harry had seen him before. It wasn't death he was scared off this time, it was something a lot scarier.

Harry took a deep breath. "Come into the kitchen," He sighed, beckoning for Ron to follow him through. He sat down at the table, pulling his plate towards him greedily, then stopped, remembering Ginny upstairs trying to comfort James and, as a wave of guilt washed over him, he pushed the plate away.

"Tell you what," He said, standing up. "It's my turn to comfort James. Come up with me and I'll send Gin down to eat her food."

Ron shrugged, following obediently as Harry trudged up the stairs.

"Gin," Harry whispered as he walked into James' room. "Gin, darling, go and eat your dinner."

"I'm alrigh'" Ginny said. She was feeding James, sitting next to the cot on a rocking chair that had once belonged to her Uncle. Her head was resting on the wooden bars and she was barely awake.

"Ginny," Harry's voice was firm. "Ron wanted to talk to me. I'll feed James, you go and eat your dinner." He stroked her face and she nodded slowly, standing up and passing James to Harry, before practically dragging herself from the room, throwing Ron an angry look.

"Right," Harry said, sitting down in the rocking chair and gesturing for Ron to take the smaller, much less comfortable chair on the other side of the room. "What's up?"

"I was talking to George," Ron muttered.

"And..." Harry encouraged, moving James so he sat more comfortably in Harry's arm.

"I was telling him how bad morning sickness was..."

"Okay...! Harry said slowly, gently easing the bottle into James' mouth.

"He said that's one of the easiest bits," Ron said quietly. "Is he telling the truth?"

"Oh yes," Harry said whole-heartedly. "Oh, God, yes. I mean, soon, Hermione's hormones will be all over the place, and she's angry at the best of times. Then the birth... Ooh, you'll probably break a couple of fingers and then faint. Honestly, it's one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen – don't let anyone talk you into that miracle of birth crap." He paused, grinning wickedly at the expression of pure terror on Ron's face and giving his best friend time to revel in his new discoveries.

"But then," Ron gulped. "Then it's okay, yeah?"

"Ohh, no," Harry chuckled, tipping up the bottle so James could reach the milk. "She'll be ridiculously emotional, you'll both be more tired than you thought possible, you'll have to do night feeds, you'll go back to work and fight you have loads of catch up on, you'll be given the guilt treatment for spending so little time with the baby, you'll be shouted at every time you say something wrong. You'll be a mess, you'll be exhausted from working all day and staying up all night. Good luck, mate," He grinned, cradling James and tucking his son into the crook of his neck so he could burp him.

"It does – it does get better thought, right?" Ron asked.

"I wouldn't say that," Harry was prolonging his speech; Ron's face was becoming more and more anxious with every word Harry uttered. "I mean, you'll have toddler tantrums and sibling squabbles and God knows what else."

"Right. It's worth it though, isn't it?" Ron said beseechingly.

Harry looked at his best friend and remembered how he had felt a year ago when Ginny had told him she was pregnant – scared, guilty and severely self-doubting leapt to mind.

"Yeah," Harry said finally, kissing James on the forehead and lowering his son – who was drifting into a deep sleep – into the cot. "It's totally worth it."


	4. Movie Night and Break Ups

Ron looked across at Hermione. "Are you sure you're okay to apparate?"

"I'll be fine, Ronald," She said briskly. "I'm barely four months pregnant. Besides, the Burrow isn't too far away; I doubt very much that I'll get splinched."

"If you're sure," Ron murmured, before turning on the spot and disappearing with a loud 'pop', Hermione following behind him.

As soon as Ron re-appeared outside the gate to the Burrow, he span around to check Hermione was alright.

"I'm fine," She snapped, shaking off his hand and beginning the short walk to the house.

"Morning, Mum," Ron called as they stepped over the threshold.

Mrs Weasley scurried out from the kitchen. "Morning, Ronald," She said distractedly. "How are you, dear?" She asked Hermione hurriedly. "Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?"

"I'm fine, Molly," Hermione said angrily, pushing past her into the living room where Fleur stood, cradling Louis.

"Was she like that with you?" Hermione asked darkly.

"Oui," Fleur sighed. "And Bill. Zey all were. Très énervant."

"How did you live with it?" Hermione asked jokily.

Fleur paused before speaking. "You 'ave to remind yourself zat zey are only doing it because zey care," She shrugged.

"Yeah, well," Hermione muttered as Fleur engaged in conversation with Angelina. "I bet it's a lot easier for you to forgive them now it's not happening anymore..."

Harry looked around to see Hermione standing alone in a corner, scowling. "I'll be back in a minute," He told Charlie, before approaching Hermione.

"You alright?" He asked.

Hermione sighed. "I'm fine," She said softly. "Just getting a bit fed up of everyone asking me how I am."

"I'm sorry I asked," Harry joked.

Hermione smiled. "That's fine," She said. "It's just when you walk in the door and Molly starts shrieking at you. And Ron, you'd think I was about to drop dead, the way he's being acting. He didn't want me to apparate her today, when he knows perfectly well it's safe up to seven months."

Harry frowned. "I can understand that."

"What?"

"You have to see what it's like from our perspective," He said fairly. "You women feel this bond with your baby, right? You can feel it. And I know it can be a right pain in the arse but you can feel it and you get to look after it for nine months.

"We don't have that. Occasionally, we can feel it kicking but we have no contact with our own flesh and blood until they're born. All the time you're pregnant, we're completely helpless, so we try and compensate for that by keeping you and the baby as safe as possible. Do you see?"

Hermione nodded as Harry cupped her shoulders, her mouth slightly open and her eyes welling with tears.

As Harry started up conversation with Arthur, Hermione blinked, wiped her eyes and made her way into the kitchen. Molly was moving her wand in circles, directing a wooden spoon to stir vegetables and putting a chicken in the oven.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Mrs Weasley?" She asked politely.

Molly looked surprised, but pleased. "Call me Molly, dear," She said. "And could you peel the potatoes for me?"

Hermione nodded and took a knife out of the drawer, then began peeling the potatoes, glad that the two witches had something in common – they both cooked using muggle methods as opposed to using magic.

Anxious to break the silence, Hermione bit her lip. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier, Mrs Weasley," She said.

"It can't be helped," Molly said briskly. "She had suddenly become very interested in the carrots she was chopping and there was a coldness in her voice.

"No, really," Hermione pressed. "The way I reacted was completely uncalled for. I shouldn't have acted like that and I really am sorry, Mrs Weasley."

"Don't worry about it, dear," The older witch said kindly, cupping Hermione's shoulders. "And call me Molly, I've told you enough."

"I think it's the hormones," Hermione laughed weakly.

"Happens to the best of us," Molly winked, then pointed at the potatoes, directing Hermione to continue peeling them.

That evening, Hermione walked into the kitchen, where Ron was devouring a pumpkin pasty, clutching a DVD.

"So," She smiled, holding up the DVD. "_The Railway Children_. What do you think?"

"Not today, Hermione," Ron said wearily, licking his lips.

"Oh," Hermione said. "Okay then, _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_? Or something else?"

"No, no, no," Ron said levelly. Stepping forwards, he took the DVD out of her hands and set it down on the table. "I don't think you understand. No film this week."

"What?" Hermione said, hurt. Every week since they were married they had kept Sunday evenings free in order to sit and watch a muggle film together.

"Why not?" She asked.

Ron paused. "Let's just say I'm not in the mood for getting all cosy," He said, pushing past her and heading for the stairs.

"What do you mean?"

"Use your brains, Hermione," He spat.

"What is it, Ronald?" Hermione shouted up the stairs.

"You can sleep on the sofa tonight," Ron said stonily.

Hermione heard him storm into their bedroom and slam the door in his wake. Blinking back the tears, she traipsed into the living room, put the DVD in, grabbed the remote and a patchwork blanket Molly had made her and Ron for a wedding present, and curled up on the sofa.

Hermione didn't sleep well that night. She woke and looked, bleary eyed, at the clock on the mantle piece. It was half five. Groggily, she pulled the blanket off herself and ascended the stairs, having decided a hot shower ought to wake her up.

Massaging the shampoo through her hair, she made a pact with herself to patch things up with Ron by the time she went to bed that evening. There was no hope in talking to Ron before work, she thought as she rinsed the conditioner out of her hair, he wasn't due in the shop until half eight, so he wouldn't be up until after Hermione had left for work. She didn't want to wait until the evening to talk to her husband, either...

Only when Hermione cast a spell over her hair to instantly dry it, did she decided what to do.

Back in the kitchen, Hermione crammed a slice of toast into her mouth and reached for a quill and piece of parchment, then scribbled a note.

_Ron,  
>I'm really sorry about last night. I'm going to come by the shop around one on my lunch break.<br>See you then,  
>Hermione<em>

Hermione gazed at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. Only an hour left until h she still had three proposals to draft and, whilst she worked faster than most, Hermione knew there was no way she would finish this by the deadline her supervisor had set her – two o'clock.

"Granger!" A deep voice barked from the office behind her.

Cursing under her breath, Hermione smoothed down her skirt and stepped into her supervisor's office.

"Yes, Mr Heath?" She said as with as much politeness as she could muster.

"Court case," He said roughly. "I need you down in courtroom ten. Now."

"Courtroom ten?" Hermione said incredulously. Courtroom ten was reserved for large cases. "What's it about?"

"Hogwarts' centaurs," Heath rumbled. "You're dealing with that case, are you not?"

"Yes," Stammered Hermione. "But they weren't meant to be in court until October."

"Well both Professor Giles and – what's the centaur's name?"

"Alta."

"Both Professor Giles and Alta would prefer to get this sorted now. Professor Giles in particular feels the constant presence of the Ministry is interfering with student life."

"What about the proposals you wanted me to draft?" Hermione asked.

"You'll still have time to do them," Heath sneered. "This should only last half an hour."

Hermione nodded. She'd have to try and get them done once she was finished in court. She had worked with Heath for a while now and knew anyone who argued with him did so in vain.

"Go, then," Heath ordered. "You'll be late."

Ron tried to suppress a yawn as he walked into the kitchen. He stepped blindly over to the kettle and began making tea as is on auto-pilot. Only as he reached into a cupboard for a mug did he notice a hastily scribbled note. He half smiled as he read it. It seemed Hermione did at least know she was in the wrong and Ron was willing to accept an apology.

He contemplated the selection of cereals in the cupboard but settled instead on breakfast in Diagon Alley, grabbing his magenta cloak as he stepped outside.

Ron drummed his fingers on the counter. This was always a slow time of year; the Hogwarts' students had stocked up on their prank-pulling supplies and were in no need of buying more, so all products were in low demand.

He looked at the clock on the wall behind the counter. Hermione was due in fifteen minutes.

Keen to make some use of himself, Ron checked nobody was about to enter the shop and then ducked through the curtain which led to the back of the shop, where he began checking the stock list.

Hermione checked her watch and sighed; Heath had said she would have been out of court twenty minutes ago and they weren't even half way through the procedure. They were yet to make a decision and she was undoubtedly going to be late meeting Ron by at least a quarter of an hour, with no means of contacting him. She wasn't allowed to leave the courtroom or use magic unless completely necessary.

Ron finished performing the complicated wand movements required to package multiple boxes of skiving snackboxes and was about to start brewing a love potion when a glance at his watch told him it was five past one.

"George!" He shouted, throwing his apron aside. "I'm on lunch!"

"Alright," George called back from his office upstairs. "Be back by two!"

"Yeah, because we're so busy today," Ron muttered, pushing the curtain aside.

He frowned as he looked around the deserted shop front. He had thought Hermione might be dithering there – she always hated going to the back of the shop without permission.

Ron checked his watch again – it was seven minute past. Hermione was never late; she always made sure she was at least five minutes early. Sighing, Ron picked up a product list and began checking the stock. He would take his lunch when Hermione turned up.

Hermione squirmed in her seat. It was one thirty five and the Wizengamot were finally beginning to file out of courtroom ten. Rubbing her stomach, she jumped up and pushed through the crowd, dashing to the toilet.

She checked her watch as she headed along to her office. She had just over twenty minutes to draft the three proposals. Knowing she would have no choice but to give one to a colleague to complete, she marched to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as quickly as her three-month-pregnant body would permit.

"Fenella," She gasped, collapsing into a chair and clutching a stick in her side. "Fenella, Heath's given me three proposals to draft. Two for house elves and one for werewolves. I've got to have them done by two and I've only just got out of court, could you-"

Fenella held out a hand, smiling grimly at her.

"Thanks," Hermione breathed, handing over the information about the werewolves.

The two witches worked in silence until five past two, when Mr Heath burst into the office they shared.

"Granger!"

"I've done them, I've done them," Hermione growled, scribbling the final sentence and handing the three finished proposals to her supervisor.

"Good," Heath said curtly. Holding out a hand, he took the papers and stalked out of the office, oblivious to the faces Fenella was making behind his back.

Hermione chuckled. "Stop doing that," She wheezed. "He'll catch you one day!"

"Let him," Fenella said dryly. "So, how are things with Ron?"

Hermione sighed. "It's not good," She admitted.

Fenella raised an eyebrow enquiringly. "Oh?"

"We got into a bit of a fight last night," She said. "I don't really know what it was about. I slept on the sofa and I left him a note this morning telling him I'd come and see him at work at one."

"Erm, it's gone two," Fenella pointed out, rather unhelpfully.

"I know," Hermione snapped. "I had the bloody court case, didn't I? Then I had to do those proposals and I just haven't had time."

"Well go, go now!" Fenella said frantically, waving her arms. "I'm sure Ron'll understand if you explain."

"Well," Hermione muttered bitterly as she made to leave the office. "You haven't met my husband."

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, bursting into the shop. "Ron!"

George looked up from the counter, raised his eyebrows and pointed into the backroom with his quill. Smiling gratefully, Hermione pushed back the curtain, coming face to face with Ron.

"Ron," She said. "Sorry I'm-"

"Late?" Ron finished His voice was quite but cold. "It's okay. I mean, you hate being late for my mother, or your parents, or work, or anything really, but I guess it's okay to be late for me, huh?"

"Ron," Hermione begged. "I was in a court case from twelve I –"

Ron laughed harshly. "Why not send a patronus then, eh?"

"You know I'm not allowed," Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You know we can't use magic inside courts. And I thought I'd be finished by half twelve, but it didn't finish until gone half one and –"

"That was half an hour ago," Ron scowled. "Why are you only just showing up?"

"I had to draft three proposals," Hermione said desperately. "But I'd really like to talk to you about –"

"Ha," Ron snorted. "No thanks, Hermione. You need to sort out your priorities. I'll see you later."

"But-" He pushed past her, through the curtain. Hermione heard the tinkling of the bell as he stormed out of the shop.

George peered around the curtain. Hermione was standing, looking more vulnerable and helpless than she usually cared to, running a hand through her hair and blinking back tears. Coughing to announce his presence, he stepped forwards.

"You look knackered," He said bluntly. "Fancy some grub?"

Hermione nodded gratefully, ducking through the curtain and collapsing into a chair behind the counter.

"So," George said. "Care to share, or private affair?"

"Guess I can share," Hermione smiled weakly, accepting a mini quiche from her brother-in-law. "So, has Ron told you anything?"

George shook his head. "Nope. He's been in a right mood all day, though."

Hermione sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair.

"I'm not really sure what we're arguing about," She said. "He wouldn't watch a film last night, you know how we always watch a film?"

George nodded.

"Well, he said he wasn't in the mood last night. He started shouting and stormed upstairs. I'm really not sure what it is I've done. Anyway, this morning I left him a note telling him I'd come here at one, on my lunch break. There was a last minute court case and it over ran and then I had a report to finish so I only finished work at two. I couldn't get a message out to him in court, see. Then just now he said something about priorities and it's all gone wrong..."

George looked at her.

"I think I know what you did," He said quietly.

"You do?"

He nodded. "Yesterday, you, err, got a bit... stroppy. You apologised to Mum about it, but... well, she wasn't the only one you shouted at, was she?"

Hermione's eyes widened as comprehension dawned on her. She felt like kicking herself; it wasn't like her to be this naïve. Of course that's why Ron was so upset. She had snapped at him in the morning. It all made perfect sense now.

"But," She said, more to herself than to George. "He's not going to accept an apology now, is he? Not now I was late today..."

"I'll talk to him," George started. "Convince him to go home tonight, rather than to Harry and Gin's. Then you cook him dinner or something, something he can't say no to – make his favourite meal. Then talk to him. Apologise."

Hermione nodded, thanked George for the food and left the shop, apparating to the Ministry as soon as she stepped outside.


	5. Movie Night and Make Ups

**A/N: I've edited this - added a bit at the end. Sorry the chapter is still short but I really haven't been happy with the last couple of chapters so I'll start again next chapter with a fresh start. Also, I'm going away tomorrow until Sunday, so I won't update again until next week. Thanks for the reviews! **

Ron had chosen to walk home from the shop that evening. At least part of the way. It gave him more time to think, and he needed a lot of that at the moment. He still wasn't sure why he was going home tonight. He'd checked with Harry, and he and Ginny were perfectly happy to let him stay the night.

He could be heading to Godric's Hollow to spend some time away from Hermione. He felt that was what they both needed, space. Instead, George had somehow convinced him that going home was the right thing to do tonight. Oh, how he was regretting the decision to agree.

As he traipsed through Muggle London, Ron decided there was no point in wallowing in his repetitive thoughts and instead decided to apparate the rest of the way home. Within seconds, he was in the street where he and Hermione lived in Kent.

He drew his breath at the sight of the lights on in the house; Hermione was home. Bracing himself for a night of arguing, he placed a hand on the door, which swung open at his touch.

Hermione looked around the kitchen frantically as she heard the door open, signalling that Ron was home. The table was set and the food was ready. She'd even found a bottle of their favourite wine, solely for Ron's consumption, of course.

She hoped she'd done it right. Ron hated things to be overdone and overdressed; he found in pointless. She'd picked out a nicer table cloth than usual and had chosen their best china and silverware, but had otherwise made no changes to their usual dinner set-up.

Hermione half smiled as Ron came into the kitchen. As always, he sought out food.

"H-Hi," She said, cursing the stammer in her voice that betrayed her otherwise calm exterior.

Ron said nothing, but nodded curtly.

"I made dinner," She said, gesturing to the table.

"I can see," He said harshly. "Can I eat, or?"

"Yes, yes, of course," She said hurriedly, taking off her apron and sitting down at the table opposite him.

They sat in silence for a while, both of them enjoying the meal. Hermione wracked her brains for something to say to her husband, hating herself for agreeing so readily to George's plan and not thinking things through. She had fully expected Ron to either not return tonight or storm straight upstairs – she hadn't spared a thought to the possibility that that he might sit and eat the meal she'd prepared.

"Ron," She said, sipping at her water. "I'm really sorry about earlier. I didn't know I was going to be in court until the last minute, and Heath promised me it'd be over by half twelve. By the time I was finished I had literally no time to spare – I had to get those reports done and you know what he's like."

Ron nodded again.

"And I'm – I'm sorry about yesterday, too. I spoke to Harry yesterday and he kind of explained everything." Hermione paused, but decided not to wait for Ron's response – she suddenly knew everything she needed to say. "I just got fed up but I had no right to snap at you like that. I mean, we haven't done that since, what, fifth year?"

Ron half smiled.

"I am so, so, sorry," She told him seriously. "You were only trying to help. I get that now."

Ron bit his lip, toying with his food whilst Hermione watched him apprehensively.

After a long silence, he sighed and dropped his fork, taking Hermione's hands in his.

Kissing the back of her left hand, he looked at her. "The Railway Children?" He asked.

Hermione beamed, allowing Ron to pull her into the living room, all plans of dinner forgotten.

"Listen," Ron said, kissing Hermione's forehead as the credits started to roll. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"I thought we agreed it was my fault," Hermione whispered.

"No, we didn't," Ron said slowly. "I was completely over the line. You shouldn't... I mean, I shouldn't have... Hermione, you're carrying our baby. You can be as snappy and as stroppy as you want."

Hermione laughed. "Feel free to tell me to shut up anytime you want."

"I won't," Ron smiled, kissing her again, wrapping the blanket tighter around them. Within seconds, he felt Hermione's body relax next to his as she fell into sleep.


	6. A Wonderful Christmas Time

**SORRY! I was away for a week and then my laptop charger gave out and a new one only arrived this morning, so it's taken a while. Not sure how I feel about this chapter, it's a bit rushed, but all my friends have gone on holiday now so _hopefully_ I'll have more time to work on this. I've edited chapters three and five very slightly from when they were first uploaded, so you might want to have a quick scan of those. Thanks for all the reviews!  
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* * *

><p>It was the twenty third of December. Hermione Weasley was sitting in her living room, a blanket wrapped around her, a book in hand.<p>

She smiled as a loud crack sounded outside through the pouring rain, and watched as her husband made his way up the drive.

"Evening," She said, as he shut the front door behind her.

"Evening," He grunted. "More like bloody night."

"Long day?" Hermione said dryly.

"You'd think," Ron said, sitting down on the sofa next to her and pulling her legs onto his lap. "That everyone would have got their Christmas presents by now. Apparently not."

"Like you ever had them sorted before Christmas Eve before we were married," Hermione scoffed. "I'm still remember the time you bought me air freshener from that Muggle petrol station."

"It's the thought that counts," Ron mumbled. "And I made the effort to go and use Muggle money, didn't I?"

Hermione laughed, swung her legs off of Ron's lap and went into the kitchen, returning moments later with a portion of beef pie on a plate.

"There you go," She yawned, handing him the pie.

"Thanks," He grinned, accepting it and beginning to devour the pie.

"Well, at least your done for the year now," Hermione said fairly, wrapping the blanket back around herself.

"True," Ron said, through a mouthful of food. "You've only got, how long left at work now?"

"Six weeks, once I go back," Hermione groaned.

"I don't understand you," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Most people would _enjoy_ having six months off work."

"You know I'm not most people, Ronald," Hermione winked. "Anyway, I'm tired. Come up soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," Ron said distractedly, shovelling another piece of pie into his mouth.

Ron smiled nervously at Hermione, watching as she wrapped a scarf tight around her neck. He zipped up his jacket, then took her hand and pulled her out into the cold morning air. They strolled through the streets of Godric's Hollow, moving slowly in an attempt to prevent Hermione's ongoing feelings of nausea.

"Feel like you can apparate now?" Ron asked.

Hermione looked uncertainly at him and then nodded.

"I'll be alright," She said evenly. "I'll have to sit down when I get to Mum and Dad's, though."

Ron nodded, took her hand and guided her through the front door. He tapped the door with his wand so it locked and wrapped his arms tightly around Hermione, who buried her head in his chest as he turned on the spot and apparated.

* * *

><p>They landed with a loud <em>crack<em> in an alley a few streets away from Hermione's parents' house.

"You okay?" Ron asked Hermione, keeping a firm grip on her arms to stop her from swaying.

"Fine," She said reassuringly, though her voice was quiet. They began the walk to the Grangers', Ron not loosening his grip on Hermione's hand.

"We'll floo tomorrow, yeah?" Ron smiled, handing Hermione a cup of tea.

She nodded, accepting the cup and lifting it to her mouth. As soon as they had arrived at her parents', she had had to sit down and begrudgingly asked Ron to get her a cup of tea. It was a mark and how tired and ill she felt after apparating; Hermione hated asking for help.

Jean and John came followed Ron into the living room, each sitting in their favourite arm chairs. Ron, after having handed around a tin of biscuits he'd brought in from the kitchen, sat on the sofa next to Hermione.

"So," Jean said cheerfully, trying to keep Hermione distracted from the nausea that filled her, "Big family dinner tomorrow?"

"Huge," Ron nodded. "There's... I've lost count how many of us there are. How many are there, Hermione?"

"Twenty-two," She grimaced.

"Well, I don't envy your mother," Jean said to Ron.

"There'll be more next year," Hermione pointed out, indicating her swollen middle.

"Of course," John said, rubbing his forehead. "How many of you are pregnant now?"

"Just Ginny and I, that I'm aware of," Hermione murmured. "But you never know with our family, do you Ron?"

Ron just smiled; it still felt weird hearing Hermione refer to the Weasleys as her family. A nice kind of weird, though.

Ron and Hermione left Jean and John's late that evening. Having recovered from the apparition, Hermione went upstairs to bed. She changed into some flannel pyjamas – the comfiest pair that fit her – and curled up in the duvet, grabbing a Muggle novel from the side table.

She didn't know how long she had been lying there – a good ten minutes – when she heard Ron come in and kick the door shut. She sat up and smiled at the sight of her husband carrying a tray with a teapot, two mugs and a plate of shortbread.

"Genius," She winked, unwrapping herself from the duvet and moving over so he could slide into bed next to her. He poured the tea, spilling only a small amount on the bed sheets, which Hermione soon vanished with her wand, giggling.

"You know, Hermione," Ron said thoughtfully as he took a sip of his tea, frowning with distaste as the hot liquid burnt his mouth. "This is our last Christmas alone together. This time next year, we'll have little Jack here with us," He stroked her stomach fondly.

"Jack?" Hermione repeated, choking on her tea. "Why Jack!"

"Well, he needs a name, doesn't he?" Ron said defensively.

"And if it's a girl?" Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"It's not," He told her firmly, taking a gulp of his tea.

* * *

><p>"Merry Christmas, Hermione," Ron said, waking his wife of four and a half years with a kiss.<p>

"Merry Christmas, Ron," She replied groggily, though still managing to smile as he kissed her neck, holding her body close to his.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked.

"Half eight," Ron murmured, "We've got three hours before we're due at Mum and Dads'."

"Right," Hermione said, throwing the duvet off herself and swinging her legs off the bed. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Nothing yet," Ron said. Caught by surprise at the idea of her husband not wanting food, Hermione allowed Ron to pull her legs back onto the bed and throw the covers over them, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

* * *

><p>"Flooing, yeah?" Ron said through a slice of toast.<p>

"Yep," Hermione said, nodding earnestly as she pushed past him to brush her teeth. Despite having woken up early, they were still set to be late to the Burrow, a pet hate of Hermione's.

"What time are we having lunch, do you know?" Hermione asked a few minutes later, wiping her mouth and putting her toothbrush back in the holder.

"I think around half one," Ron said, "Children permitting, of course."

"Naturally," Hermione said dryly. "And you're helping your mum with lunch?"

"I am," Ron said confidently, waving his arms in a victory dance. "Seven odd years she's been teaching me cook, and she's _finally_ decided to let me help with Christmas dinner."

"Any ideas what you're doing?" Hermione asked, taking a sip of water.

Ron's ears went red. "Gravy," He muttered.

Hermione snorted, hastily turning it into a cough. "It's a start," She spluttered, dodging past Ron into the other room.

* * *

><p>"Mum!" Ron called, jumping out of the fire place at the Burrow. "Mum?"<p>

Mr Weasley came in from the living room.

"Merry Christmas, Dad," Ron grinned.

"Merry Christmas, Ron," Arthur replied, eyeing the several large bags of presents Ron carried. "Want me to put those under the tree?"

"Yes please," Ron said gratefully, handing over the bags. "Where's Mum? I've got some gravy to make!"

"She's a bit stressed," Arthur warned. "I don't think she realised how many of us there are. IF you're very lucky," He said, "She might let you peel some potatoes, too."

"Oh, ha-ha," Ron scowled, moving aside as Hermione practically fell out of the fireplace.

"Flooing," She said breathlessly, "Is a lot harder when you're seven months pregnant."

"I wouldn't know," Ron said dryly, guiding her into the living Room and sitting her down in an armchair.

"What time is everybody else getting here?" Hermione asked Arthur as she stood up, despite Ron's protests, and helped him lay presents under the large fir tree.

"Twelve," Arthur said, wiping his glasses. "Well, that's when they're _meant_ to be coming. You know what that lot are like, they probably won't get here 'til half two."

"Merry Christmas, Hermione dear," Molly said, descending the stairs with surprising energy.

"Merry Christmas, Molly," Hermione beamed, giving her mother-in-law a kiss on the cheek. "Ron's waiting in the kitchen for you."

"Oh brilliant!" Molly said cheerily, going into the kitchen.

"Happy Christmas!" Ron called. He was sitting on the kitchen counter, reading a copy of _Witch Weekly,_ which he promptly hid behind his back on noticing Molly's arrival.

"Merry Christmas, dear, but do get off the counter," Molly looked at her son disapprovingly.

"Sorry," Ron grinned sheepishly, kissing her on the cheek. "Right! What can I do?"

"You're eager," Molly remarked, washing her hands and gesturing for Ron to follow suit. "Tell you what dear, peel and cut those for me," She handed him a large bag of carrots.

"How do you want these done?" He asked, rinsing them under the tap.

"Julienne, please," Molly smiled, opening her cook book.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you're alright to do this?" Harry asked his wife, eyeing her swollen stomach.<p>

"I'll be fine," She reassured him. "Besides, I need to get there somehow. Here, you take James."

Harry took the gurgling 10-month old baby, wrapping his arms tightly around his son as he stepped into the fireplace.

He took a handful of Floo Powder from the cup Ginny held out to him and said, as loudly and clearly as he could muster, "The Burrow!"

He was proud of how composedly he fell out of the fireplace – it was something that you got better at with practice, flooing. Moving James onto his hip, Harry followed the unmistakable noise of nineteen Weasley's celebrating Christmas and went into the living room, Ginny following behind him.

"Merry Christmas, everyone," Harry called, announcing himself.

"Merry Christmas!" The whole of the family chorused back at him, with the exception of Molly and Ron, who Harry believed to be in the kitchen.

"D'un!" James cried, hitting Harry's arm with his balled fist. "D'un!"

"You want to get down?" Harry asked.

"D'un!" James repeated, with increasing urgency.

"Alright, down you go," Harry sighed, releasing his grip on James and setting him down on the floor, where he enthusiastically crawled towards Teddy, who was talking to Victoire, laughing hysterically.

"Wow, this smells great," Harry said, wandering into the kitchen.

"Harry!" Mrs Weasley shrieked, throwing herself at the man she considered her son. "Merry Christmas, dear!"

"Merry Christmas, Mrs Weasley," Harry said, sliding out of her grip. "Merry Christmas, mate," He added to Ron.

"Merry Christmas," Ron replied distractedly. Realising he was concentrating on peeling potatoes, Harry removed himself from the kitchen and stroke up conversation with Andromeda.

* * *

><p>That evening, James had fallen asleep in Hermione's arms. The rest of the children were all either asleep or dozing off, with the exception of Victoire and Teddy, who were talking in hushed voices in the corner.<p>

"Who does that remind you of?" Arthur smiled at George, nodding to the two children.

George smiled sadly back, soon busying himself with Fred, pulling a jumper over his son's head.

Hermione watched the exchange with sorrow, lolling her head onto Ron's chest as he stroked her hair sub-consciously. She blinked sleepily, and, feeling the tiredness overcome her, she closed her eyes for a second.

"They've both fallen asleep," Harry snickered, indicating Ginny and Hermione.

"Ooh, hang on," George grinned, pointing at Katie. "Three now."

"Katie hasn't even got an excuse," Ron said. "Or has she?"

"No," George reassured him. "At least I bloody well hope not. I can't be dealing with that again."

Ron's eyes widened. "Is it really that bad?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Yes."

Ron looked frantically around at his brothers, and then finally to his father, who nodded grimly.

"Ron, it's awful," Arthur grimaced.

"Brilliant," Ron sighed, eyeing James wearily.


	7. Happy New Year

"This is wild," Ron commented, handing three cups of coffee round to Hermione, Harry and Ginny.

"Shut up," Ginny said bitterly, shifting in her seat as she took her tea from her brother, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the decaffeinated liquid. "I can't wait 'til I can have the real stuff again..."

It was New Years Day, just. James was asleep in Ron's arms and Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny had brought in the New Year over four cups of hot coffee.

"Gin?" Harry asked, as Ginny moved in discomfort again. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine," Ginny nodded, standing up and moving in circles around the room, breathing slowly. "I just... My back hurts, that's all. Been sitting still for too long."

"Are you sure?" Harry looked concerned.

"Really, I'm fine," Ginny nodded, letting another deep breath pass through her lips. "I'll just go and get a glass of water."

"No," Harry said firmly. "I'll get it." He jumped out of his chair darted past Ginny and went into the kitchen.

"Are you sure you're alright, Gin-Gin?" Ron asked. "You look a bit pale..."

"Fine!" Ginny snapped, forgetting that James, who was the lightest sleeper the world had ever seen, was asleep in front of her.

Harry listened from the kitchen as his son's wails began to fill the house. He turned off the tap and half-ran back into the living room, handing Ginny a glass and taking James off Ron, who was trying – in vain – to comfort him.

Ginny sipped at the water, shivering slightly as the cool liquid hit her teeth. The pain in her back reached a level she could no longer stand and she collapsed into an armchair, blocking out the sound of her son crying.

"Come on, Jamie," Harry was saying, "James, shh, come on, buddy, shh."

Ginny closed her eyes, arching her back against the pain. "Harry," She murmured.

He didn't hear her, but left the room, continuing to stroke James' back up and down in an attempt to quieten him.

"Harry," She said again, her voice weak. "Harry."

Hermione turned to look at her, although unable to hear her over James' cries. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked at her sister-in-law. Ginny's eyes were shut tight and she was bent over her stomach, cradling the bump.

"Ginny?" She said loudly. "Ginny?"

Ron too, noticed his sister and crouched down in front of her. "Gin? Are you okay? Is it the baby?"

"No – no I'm fine," Ginny said through gritted teeth. _This could not be happening_ she thought. Then she felt a vaguely familiar gush of water.

"Wha-oh!" Ron jumped up hastily, moving away from Ginny. "Erm, I'll just – just go get Harry."

Ginny closed her eyes again as Ron darted from the room.

"How long have you been having contractions?" Hermione whispered.

"I haven't," Ginny moaned, leaning back in the chair as the pain in her back subsided slightly. "It's not supposed to happen this way!"

"Gin?" Harry came into the room and bent down next to Ginny, taking her hands. "Ron said your waters had broken."

"Well, aren't you a smart one?" She said dryly. "Harry, I'm not getting contractions. It's not meant to happen this way round – you need to ask a healer what to do."

Harry stood up from the fireplace, rubbing his knees slightly from where he had been kneeling.

"Well," He said. "The Healer wants me to bring you in so she can examine you, but it could be a while yet. Are you alright to floo?"

Ginny paused and then nodded, taking Harry's hand as he pulled her up.

"OW!" She screamed as she left the chair.

"What's wrong?" Harry's voice was urgent as he lowered his wife back into the chair.

"Can't – stand," Ginny panted, her eyes shut.

"Err – okay – err," Harry's eyes were widened in panic.

"Take her upstairs," Hermione said. "I'll send Ron to St Mungo's to bring the Healer here. What's her name?"

"Mindy," Ginny gasped.

"Alright," Hermione said, "Go and get comfortable upstairs, Ron and I will take James back to ours for the night. Go! Go!" She shooed them from the room, watching as Harry lifted Ginny into his arms and began the walk up the stairs. Once they were gone, she ran into the kitchen.

"Ron," She said, taking James out of his arms. "Ron, Floo to St. Mungo's now. Find Harry and Ginny's Healer – she's called Mindy – and tell her Ginny's here. Tell her she couldn't stand up so Harry's put her in the spare room. She'll have to come to the house or send someone here."

"Right," He said, pushing past her back into the living room.

Ron knocked on the door to Harry and Ginny's bedroom.

"Come in," Harry called from inside.

"I've been to St Mungo's," Ron said, trying to avoid looking at his sister lying on the bed. "Mindy said she'd be here in a few moments. Hermione and I will stay for a bit, then we'll pack up some things for James and take him to our place until you're ready to have him back."

"Thanks, Ron," Ginny breathed, whilst Harry nodded at her side. "You're a star."

"I'll send Mindy up when she gets here," Ron smiled sheepishly and then left the room.

Hermione shifted James in her arms, so she could pull her wand out of her pocket. Giving it a quick flick towards the centre of the room, she conjured a travel cot and placed James in it.

"Now then, Jamie," She said, stroking his hair. "Uncle Ron's just gone to get you some clothes, but he's not very good at this kind of thing, bless him, so I'll go and help him. I'll be back in a minute, sweetheart."

She pulled herself up the stairs, fighting the oncoming sleep. Grateful Harry had placed silencing charms around the master bedroom where Ginny was, she opened the door to James' room, where Ron was frowning at a chest of draws.

Hermione laughed softly, walking to the centre of the room and pushing Ron aside with a light swat on the back of his head. She bent over the draws and quickly picked out a couple of different outfits, then took a large wad of nappies and ointments from a changing table in the corner.

"Anything else?" Ron asked, watching Hermione throw the stuff into a bag. "Does he need some toys?"

"We'll get some stuff from your Mum," Hermione said. "But we should probably get something... What does he play with a lot?"

"The building blocks," Ron said thoughtfully, "Have you got Snuffles?"

Hermione shook her head. "James is asleep with him in the cot, isn't he?" She said, referring to the stuffed black dog James carried with him everywhere.

"We'll grab that on the way out," Ron muttered. "Just grab some stuff from that crate," He added, indicating a toy box Arthur had made James that sat next to the cot. Arthur had made each of his children a toy box to use for their children, his grandchildren, whilst Molly made them all Weasley jumpers at Christmas. Arthur had proudly informed Ron last week that he was in the process of making one for him and Hermione's child.

"Have you heard anything?" Hermione asked, handing Ron a cup of coffee.

"No," Ron said, clutching the mug in his hands.

It was four o'clock in the morning. Hermione had finally managed to get James to sleep in what would soon be becoming the baby's room; he rarely settled without Harry or Ginny present.

Hermione sat down on the sofa, lying back against the soft cushions.

"Go to sleep, love," Ron said softly. "Go to bed. It's not good for you or the baby."

"M'alrigh'" Hermione murmured sleepily.

"Hermione," Ron said, more firmly this time. "Go to bed. I promise I'll wake you up if I hear anything."

"'Kay," She said, lifting herself off the sofa.

Hermione reached out and grabbed her alarm clock, waiting for her eyes to focus so she could see the time. She sat bolt upright when she realised it was gone eleven. Wondering if Ron had heard anything from Harry, she went to the bathroom and slipped into the shower. Rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she realised she hadn't checked on James.

Fastening a towel around her, Hermione stepped out of the steamy bathroom into the cold landing. She went into her room and pushed her feet into her slippers. When she found James' cot deserted, she frowned and made her way downstairs.

Ron dabbed at James' mouth with a cloth, getting the most of the strained fruit off of his face.

"There you are, Jamie," He said, throwing the cloth next to the sink. "Shall we go and get you washed up?"

James merely laughed and held up his arms for Ron to lift him out of his high chair.

"Cor'" Ron groaned, bouncing James on his hip. "You're getting heavy."

"There you are," Hermione smiled. She padded into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, leaning against the counter.

"Sleep alright?" Ron asked, holding one of James' balled fists.

"Like a log," Hermione said happily. "First time in _ages_ I've had a good night's sleep."

"Wasn't really night though, was it?" Ron winked. "Four 'til eleven. You're getting wreckless."

"It's old age," Hermione smiled.

Ron snorted, "You're twenty-five. I blame hormones."

"All right," Hermione said, rolling her head to ease the tension from her neck. "Hormones. What time did you wake up, anyway?"

"Six-ish. Thanks to this one," He nodded his head at the baby in his arms.

"Six!" Hermione said incredulously. "Ron – go back to bed!

"Can't, can I?" He said. "I've got to get James sorted and we're due at my parents' in half an hour."

Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. "Sunday lunch! I completely forgot! Maybe you can kip upstairs after lunch for a bit."

"Maybe," Ron said. "I'll go get James ready. Get dressed, love."

Arthur looked up from the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ he was reading. Hermione and Ron had walked into his living room, James in Hermione's arms.

"Why've you got James?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Err..." Ron looked at Hermione, then back to his father. "Ginny went into labour late last night. Or early this morning, depends how you look at it."

"Did I hear that right?" Molly asked, bolting into the living room from the kitchen. "Ginny went into labour?"

"Yes," Hermione said, talking over the level of excitement that had risen around the family. "Yes, she's gone into labour. But it went a bit wrong... She's at the house, she's at home with Harry. They couldn't get her to St Mungo's."

"I'm going to visit," Molly said firmly, throwing her apron aside.

"No, Mum, please," Ron said, grabbing her elbow. "She's still in labour. Nothing's happened yet but she wasn't in a brilliant way. Harry knows I'm here, if anything happens we'll be the first to know."

"I want to see my daughter," Molly said, somewhat coldly, shrugging off Ron's grip and grabbing a handful of Floo powder from the flowerpot next to the fireplace.

"Molly!" Arthur said sternly. "You heard Ron. And you know Gin. She won't want visitors right now. You can visit once the baby's born."

Molly looked reluctantly from the fireplace to Arthur. Sighing, she emptied her hand back into the flowerpot and headed into the kitchen, pulling on her apron without another word.

"Night-night, Jamie," Hermione smiled. She tucked the blankets around James and nestled Snuffles the dog into the cot next to him. She stroked her nephew's jet black hair, but he refused to settle.

"Come on, sweetie," She whispered, gently moving his arms away from the edge of the cot.

"M'uy!" James whined. "Where M'uy?"

"Mummy's a bit busy at the moment," Hermione coaxed. "So you're staying with Uncle Ron and me, yeah?"

"Wan' Mu'y," James whimpered, rubbing his face against Snuffles.

"I know you do, darling," Hermione said, sitting down next to the cot, still stroking James' head. "I promise you can go and see Mummy tomorrow. And Daddy."

"Da'y," James said, his voice muffled by the dog.

"Tomorrow, darling," Hermione repeated. "Go to sleep now, and you'll see them really, really soon, sweetheart, I promise."

James planted his thumb in his mouth, a sign he was truly upset. Hermione continued to stroke the tufts of black hair that covered his head, hoping some kind of repetitive movement would help James fall into a sleep.

Ron awoke the morning of the second of January to find Hermione fast asleep in the bed next to him. He picked up his watch which lay discarded on the bedside table. It was half six. James would probably be up.

Rubbing his eyes, Ron pulled the covers off his body and swung his legs around so dangled off the bed, hitting the soft carpet. He brushed a hand over Hermione's forehead as he moved past her, moving the hair that fell on her face every night without fail. Smiling, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, hoping he wouldn't wake her.

Ron opened the door to James' room as quietly as he could, to find his nephew sleeping soundly in his cot. Knowing how hard it had been to get him to sleep, Ron shut the door again and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower.

He padded back into the bedroom, grabbing his wand from the dresser. Once he was back in the bathroom, he shut the door and tapped the towels hanging up on the rack with his wand, ensuring they would be warm when he came out of the shower.

He worked the shampoo through his hair, trying to plan his day. He couldn't take the day off work – Kenny and Melissa didn't work on Mondays and George wouldn't be able to handle everything alone. He knew Hermione wouldn't be willing to take the day off work so close to the start of her maternity leave – she was already fretting about being at a loose end once she'd had the baby. He could take James to the Burrow, but he had a feeling his nephew wouldn't tolerate being shifted around the family so much.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he stepped out of the shower into the warm towels, quickly drying himself and rushing into the bedroom. He pulled on a pair of jeans and his newest maroon jumper, then went into the room where James was sleeping.

James had awoken whilst Ron was in the shower. He was sitting in silence, gazing around the room with his mouth hanging open.

"Do you like the room?" Ron asked, lowering the bars of the cot and scooping James into his arms. "This is going to be your cousin's room soon, James. You're going to have a new baby cousin. And a new baby brother or sister! You're going to be the big boy soon, Jamie. You'll have to help your Mummy and Daddy look after the baby, won't you? Yes you will, yes you will!"

"How does your voice go that high?" Hermione drawled.

Ron turned around with a start. Hermione was leaning against the bedroom door. "How long have you been there?" He asked defensively. Foolish as he knew it sounded, he felt his conversation with James had been rather private.

"Somewhere around 'big boy soon'," Hermione mocked. "What are we going to do with James today?" She added soberly, "Take him to the Burrow?"

Ron shook his head. "No. I don't want him to go around the family because everyone's too busy to look after him. I'll take him to work."

"Won't George mind?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"Nah," Ron said, taking off the baby-grow James had slept in. "I can put him in the sling or the travel cot, can't I? George'll be fine with it, he's had Fred there a couple of times."

Ron changed James' nappy and proceeded to put on a bright blue jumper knitted by Molly and some trousers.

"If you're sure," Hermione said, moving away from the door and opening it to let Ron through. "I'll go have a shower."


	8. A New Arrival

**Sorry about the wait. I had the writer's block to end all writer's block. It was ridiculous. But I've scrambled this together, enjoy! :)**

Ron pushed the door that lead to the back of the shop open with his hip, holding James tightly in one arm and a bag in the other.

"George?" He called, dumping the bag by the door. He could hear voices coming from the front of the shop as business started to pick up. Crouching down by the bag, he pulled out a small, black case. Giving it a quick tap with his wand, Ron watched as it unfolded and grew into a travel cot in front of him.

"Stay right there, Jamie," He told his nephew, lowering James into the cot. "I'll be back in a minute."

James sat with his thumb in his mouth, clutching Snuffles with his spare hand, watching Ron as he pushed through the curtain that led to the front of the shop.

"George," He said, moving behind the counter to where George was on the till.

"One minute," George said, ringing up some prices on the old fashioned contraption. He took the money given to him by the witch across the counter and handed back three sickles. "Have a nice day," He told her, before turning to Ron. "What's up?"

"I've got James here," Ron explained. "He's in the cot in the back. Do you mind?"

"Guess not," George said, filling the till up with change. "But you can't check on him all day, alright? Term starts again on Wednesday, all the Hogwarts' students will be coming in either today or tomorrow, we need all hands on deck."

"Right," Ron said, regretting the decision to bring James with him. "Maybe I should take him to Mums' – "

"Nonsense," George said, batting a hand in Ron's direction. "It'll be fine. Katie's working from home today, if things get really bad we can take her to him."

"If you're sure," Ron said. "I just feel like Mum constantly has a grandchild to take care off. I know she's got Victoire and Dominique today while Fleur takes Louis to the hospital. I just didn't want to bundle James on her as well."

"It's fine," George said reassuringly, cuffing Ron over the shoulder. "Besides, he'll be back home tonight, right? Have you heard from Gin?"

"Nothing," Ron murmured, turning to a waiting customer.

* * *

><p>George shut the door behind the last group of excited school children who bustled out of the shop, brand new products clutched in their arms and plans of start-of-term pranks forming between them. He turned over the sign on the door with a sigh so that it read 'closed' and went into the back of the shop.<p>

"Still no news?" He asked his brother, falling into a heavily cushioned arm chair.

Ron shook his head, waving a rattle in front of James' face in an attempt to entertain him. "Nothing."

"How long's it been now?" George asked, flicking his wand in the direction of the kettle, which began to boil.

"Well over twenty four hours," Ron said tiredly, watching as George began to make two cups of tea. "Well over thirty six. Nearer to forty eight now."

"Maybe we should stop round there," George suggested, pouring dashes of milk into the two mugs. "Check they're okay. Knowing Ginny, she won't have let Harry leave her side this entire time."

"That's true," Ron mused, taking the mug from George.

"Wouldn't hurt," George muttered, sipping at his tea.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, watching as James fought sleep, his eyes drifting shut and continuously snapping open. George drained his mug and set it aside, leaning back in the arm chair he was sitting on, stretching his legs out in front of him.

At that moment they heard a gush from the fireplace and watched, bewildered, as Harry fell out of it, a slightly giddy expression on his face. George watched as his brother-in-law stumbled into the room and promptly got out of his chair to allow Harry to sit down.

"Well?" Ron demanded, ignoring James' squeals of delight at his father's presence.

"She'd had the baby," Harry said tiredly. "About five minutes ago."

"About bloody time," George grumbled. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy," Harry beamed. "Albus Severus."

Ron spat out the remainder of his tea. "What?"

"You know why," Harry said darkly. "Let's leave it at that."

George looked between Harry and Ron, watching the unspoken exchange. Deciding not to comment or ask the meaning behind the name, he swiftly changed the topic. "How's Gin?"

"She's alright," Harry rubbed his eyes. "Tired as hell though. I checked with her, she says you could come and visit."

"Are you sure she's up to that?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded, wiping his glasses on his shirt. "She'll be fine. Although," He paused. "Can I ask a huge favour of you?"

Ron nodded, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Could you possibly look after James for one more night? If it's too much hassle with Hermione, I can take her to your mum's. It's just all his stuff is at yours and Ginny and I are both exhausted and what with Albus-"

"Of course we can," Ron said loudly, cutting off his best friend. "We'll look after him as long as you want, although he could do with a quick visit from you. It's been a nightmare trying to get him to sleep without you or Ginny there to tuck him in."

Harry bit his lip. "If you two come to ours now to see Gin, you can bring James with you and put him down in his room for a bit. Then, Ron maybe I could come to yours later to put James to bed."

"Fine," Ron said, standing up and stretching. He waited for Harry to lift James out of the cot and vanished it with his wand. He watched as George took James off Harry, having decided the latter was too tired to Floo whilst carrying a baby. Ron stood in silence as first George then Harry disappeared in a mass of green flames. He sighed as he moved into the fireplace himself and, in one shout of "Harry and Ginny's" he was gone.

* * *

><p>Ron fell out of the fireplace later that evening, clutching James, to find Hermione lying on the sofa, her nose buried in a muggle novel.<p>

"Where've you been?" She asked, checking her watch. Ron was home over an hour later than usual.

"I went to meet someone," Ron smiled, lightly shoving Hermione's legs so he could sit down next to her.

"Who?" Hermione asked, setting the book aside.

"My newest nephew."

Hermione sat bolt upright. "WHAT? When?"

Ron pushed her back onto the cushions. "Harry came to the shop just after we'd closed up for the day. Invited me and George to come and see."

"You could have come and got me," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

"That's what I'm doing now," Ron told her. "I've got to stay here with James, but you're off to go and see Harry and Ginny."

"I – I can't," Hermione shook her head. "They won't want me there, intruding on them."

"Nonsense," Ron said, standing up and pulling Hermione to her feet with his spare hand. "My Mum's there now, it'll be fine. When you come back, Harry will come with you so he can put James to sleep. It'll be easier that way."

"Really? Are you sure I won't be a problem?"

"They want to see you, love. Besides, we're looking after their son for another night, they owe us a favour. Go on, I'll see you soon." He gave her a light kiss on the cheek and motioned for her to step towards the fireplace.

* * *

><p>"That'll be Hermione," Harry said to nobody in particular, as the box on the bedside table started to flash, signalling someone had flooed to the house.<p>

He, Molly and Arthur were sitting around the bed where Ginny lay, taking it in turns to pass Albus around the group.

"Harry?" Hermione called from downstairs.

"Up here!" He shouted back.

Within moments, Hermione had joined them in the bedroom. She stood in the doorway, looking from Harry to Ginny. Both of them looked exhausted and in good need of a sleep.

"Maybe I should go," She said.

Harry raised his eyebrows and conjured up a chair. "Sit."

Hermione flashed Harry a small smile, sitting down next to him. They sat in silence for a moment, watching Albus in Molly's arms. Ginny had fallen into a light sleep, her body still propped up on a large amount of pillows and cushions.

Harry jerked a head towards Ginny, grinning at Hermione despite his tiredness. "That'll be you in a couple of months."

"Don't remind me," Hermione said darkly, winking at Harry assure him she was joking.

"Right then, Granger," Harry said, moving across to where his mother-in-law sat. "Your turn."

Molly rather reluctantly allowed Harry to take Albus from her. Taking care to support his son's head, Harry stood next to Hermione and handed Albus to her.

"Hi, Albus," Hermione whispered, holding her nephew tightly in her arms. "I'm your Aunty Hermione." She looked at Albus, who was searching her face. His eyes, were a foggy blue. There was no telling, as of yet, whether they would become warm and brown like Ginny's or sharp and green like Harry's. All Hermione knew, in that moment, was that the sight of a baby in her arms made her inexplicably emotional.

"You're very handsome," She told him, tickling the bottom of his foot with her finger. She was mortified to hear her voice crack as a tears began to fall.

Despite his tiredness, Harry crouched down next to his sister-in-law. He wrapped his arms around her shoulder and smiled at her, thumbing the tears from her cheeks. She gave a shaky laughing, ducking her head so he could kiss her cheek.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Hermione stood in the door way to what had become James' room, watching as Harry put his son to bed. She heard Ron come up the stairs and smiled as he wrapped his arms around her swollen stomach, resting his chin on her shoulder.<p>

James smiled as Harry placed him in the cot, wrapping the sheets around him and tucking Snuffles in next to him.

"Now, James," Harry said, holding his son's hand. "I want you to be a good boy for Uncle Ron and Aunty Hermione, okay? And then tomorrow night, you can come back home with Mummy and me. We've got someone we'd like you to meet." He stroked James' hair, watching as the young boy's eyes drifted shut.

"It's adorable," Hermione murmured to Ron.

"That'll be us soon," Ron smiled, kissing Hermione's neck. "Less than two months to go now."

"I can't wait," Hermione whispered, twisting her up to kiss her husband.


	9. Make The Most Of It

**Two apologies: 1) Sorry for the delay, my internet was down for a couple of days. 2) Sorry for the short chapter, I just couldn't get it to work so I'm hoping a fresh start on a new chapter should bring some better ideas :) Also, I'm back to school as of Wednesday so updates might be even slower than they are at the moment - sorry! I'm coming to the end of the story though, so it shouldn't be too bad:) Thanks for reading&reviewing!**

Ron shot a glance at Hermione across the room. To the rest of the family, she was perfectly fine. She was smiling as she talked to Katie. Only Ron could see the forcefulness behind it and the tiredness in her eyes.

"Dinner!" Molly called from the kitchen.

A series of cheers from her son's echoed around the room, followed by a wave of 'shushes' from her daughters-in-law, who were trying to calm down her grandchildren. Molly couldn't help but grin foolishly as she watched her family take their seats around the large dining table. It had been a lifetime goal of hers – being surrounded by family - and it was one of the few she had actually achieved. She could have had fewer children and more money. That would certainly have made life easier, especially when the children were younger. She could have spent her later years travelling the world, rather than looking after grandchildren at next to no notice. But, Molly thought to herself as she piled potatoes onto Victoire's plate, she wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

><p>Harry walked into the dining room of the Burrow to find everybody else half way through their meal. Ginny looked up as he came down the stairs, gesturing for him to sit in the seat next to her.<p>

"I finally got him to sleep," He yawned, watching Ginny attempt to feed James small pieces of soft carrot. "He's impossible."

"I know," Ginny smiled at James in an attempt to get him to eat. "We'll wake him up in a couple of hours, though, and he should sleep well tonight."

At the other end of the table, Bill was struggling to keep Dominique in her high chair. After a moment or two of watching his daughter wrestle with the straps to the point where Bill thought they might break, he lifted her out of the chair and sat her on his lap, laying his knife and fork aside.

"Make the most of not having to deal with this," He muttered to Ron and Hermione, who were sitting to his left. "How long left now?"

"Three weeks exactly," Ron said promptly, shovelling more parsnips onto his plate.

Bill caught Hermione's eye. They both looked at Ron, back at each other and then rolled their eyes.

"What?" Asked Ron, through a mouthful of broccoli.

"You," Bill chuckled. "You're so jumpy. You've been sitting on the edge of your seat all afternoon, as though Hermione's going to give birth any second.

"Am not," Ron said defensively.

"You so are," George chimed in.

"Oh," Ron scoffed. "Because you weren't like that when Katie was pregnant. You overcharged someone in the shop by six galleons _a month_ before Fred was due."

George seemed to have lost interest in their conversation and instead became intent on getting as much food off of Roxanne's face as possible. Ron watched his brother become increasingly uncomfortable with a smirk on his face, before turning back to his dinner.

* * *

><p>"Your turn," Ginny sighed, jiggling James on her lap.<p>

Harry rolled his eyes and made to get up, but Ron got there first.

"I'll go," He said, following the sound of Albus' cries from upstairs.

"He won't be this eager in a couple of months time," Angelina said to Ron's retreating back.

"Leave him to it," George said happily. "He's so naïve. He'll realise what he's got himself into soon."

"Shut up, George," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"Touchy," Charlie smirked, his next remark dying in his throat as he earned a glare from Hermione.

Ron cautiously opened the door to the room where Albus was sleeping, Percy's old room. Three cots lined the wall furthest away from the door, all empty except for the one where Albus lay, his tiny fists flailing.

"Hey, buddy," He whispered, moving across the small room in two strides and scooping his nephew out of the cot and was shocked to find that Albus' sobs subsided immediately.

"Wicked," Ron murmured, cradling Albus in his arms for a moment. He moved to place Albus back in the cot but as soon as they lost bodily contact, Albus resumed his crying.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Guess you're coming downstairs with me then, aren't you mate?" He bent back into the cot to pick up the small, stuffed stag that Harry had bought for Albus the day he was born and went back downstairs, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Here comes trouble," Harry said as Ron came back down the stairs, holding Albus. "Is he alright?"

"Fine," Ron said, sitting down between Fleur and Angelina. "He wouldn't let me leave him in the cot, though."

"Ugh," Ginny groaned, "He'd better not be as clingy as James was when he was that age. It was awful, wasn't it?"

"I'll say," Molly added. "Nightmare. You couldn't put him down for two seconds."

"Doesn't parenting sound fun?" Ron grinned across the room to Hermione.

"Superb," She said dryly. "You'd better hand Albus over to someone else, we should get going because I've got to be at work early tomorrow."


	10. Due Date

**Ooh, wasn't expecting to write this chapter so quickly! Hope you enjoy it :)**

* * *

><p>Hermione lowered herself onto the sofa, propping her feet up on the coffee table, a glass of water clutched in her hands. She wanted more than anything to have a dose of caffeine but she had been advised not to so close to her due date.<p>

She checked her watch. Ginny would be arriving in half an hour. In the meantime, Hermione thought, she may as well have another look through the Children's Book of Names that Ron had picked up from the Muggle bookshop she liked in London.

They had been unable to agree on a name for the baby. They had lots of possibilities, including Donna, Joseph, Abigail, Sophia and Matthew, but none of them had seemed right. Hermione thumbed through the large book, frustrated when nothing jumped out at her. Sighing, she through the book aside and picked up a Muggle novel she had been reading.

The rest of the family couldn't understand why Hermione read so much. It wasn't in the nature of a Weasley to be interested in reading. They preferred a more active lifestyle. They're childhood afternoons were spent outdoors playing Quidditch or de-gnoming the garden, not curled up in an armchair with a book. The truth was, Hermione sought refuge in the books she read. That was why she liked fantasies and novels set in make-believe worlds. Ron laughed at her for reading children's books from time to time, but Hermione didn't care. She could lose herself in a book – she could be taken to a world without any problems, where everything was okay. That was what she did now. She let the pain and stress of her last few days of pregnancy leave her body as she absorbed herself in her book, taking in every word.

All to soon, however, she came crashing back to reality. When the doorbell rang, Hermione made no effort to get up. She sat for a second, finished the paragraph she was reading and slipped her bookmark back inside the book. She stood up slowly, stretching all her muscles, and made her way to the front door.

"Ginny," She smiled, stepping back to allow her best friend to get through.

"You look like hell," Ginny said bluntly, walking into the sitting room.

"Thanks," Hermione smiled wryly. She watched as Ginny conjured a rug and put James down, then took Albus out of the sling strapped to her body. Ginny collapsed onto the sofa, still holding Albus in her arms.

Hermione had great admiration for her sister-in-law. She didn't understand how Ginny was capable of juggling a career and two young children. Admittedly, her hours were fewer than those Hermione currently worked, but she had still managed to write several articles since the birth of Albus just under four weeks ago.

"How are you?" Hermione asked.

"Knackered," Ginny told her truthfully. "Guessing you are too?"

Hermione nodded. "This baby is nocturnal, I swear. Absolutely still during the day, but when it comes to night time, it's doing somersaults."

Ginny flashed a sympathetic smile. "James was like that."

Hermione lost herself in thought for a moment, before remembering her manners and offering Ginny a drink.

Minutes later, the two witches sat in silence, sipping their drinks and watching James roll around on the rug, gnawing Snuffles, the toy dog.

"So," Ginny said, easing a dummy into Albus' mouth. "Tomorrow's the big day, then?"

Hermione nodded, a nervous smile on her face.

"Mind you," Ginny added, "James was over two weeks past his due date, I wouldn't expect too much tomorrow."

"Great," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just want this bit over with now."

* * *

><p>"How's Hermione?" George asked as soon as Ron apparated to the shop.<p>

"Not good," Ron sighed. "Eight days late and counting. It's a nightmare."

George frowned. "What did the Healer say at St. Mungo's yesterday?"

"Nothing," Ron worried his lip between his teeth. "They said there's nothing they can do until it reaches ten days. I just feel awful, Hermione's so uncomfortable and I'm here whilst she's stuck at home."

"You can go home," George told him. "I've said you don't have to be here. I've got Kenny and Melissa here."

"I know," Ron said, grabbing a file from the shelf under the till. "But you know what Hermione's like. She insists she's fine, she refuses to let me stay with her... She doesn't know I heard her last night. She was up all night again, shifting around, going downstairs to get drinks... She can't get any sleep. She's always hot as well, she's put so many cooling charms on our house – it's bloody freezing!"

"Been there, mate," George empathised. "You have to dig out the woollies. It was July when Fred was born, it was awful."

Ron stood for a moment, contemplating going home. He shook his head, reminding himself that Harry had promised to sit with Hermione today – it was his day off – and that Hermione would be fine. He sat at the desk in the back and began making his way through the paperwork he had to complete by the end of the week.

* * *

><p>Harry rang the doorbell to Ron and Hermione's house, feeling apprehensive. Ron had recounted numerous stories of Hermione's moods as of late, and Harry knew only too well how it felt to be on the wrong side of her temper. As he watched her shadow approach the front door, he vowed to be as polite to her as he could, in the hope he wouldn't cross her.<p>

"Harry," Hermione nodded curtly.

Harry groaned internally. It didn't sound good. Hermione stepped back to allow him to step over the threshold, gripping Albus tightly.

"Is James with Ginny?" Hermione asked politely, leading Harry into the living room.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, rubbing Albus' back. "He's just gone down for a nap, so she's hoping she can get an article written this afternoon. She might have come round otherwise."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said, propping her feet up. "She needs to get her work done sometime, doesn't she?"

"Have you though about what you're going to do about work once the baby's born?" Harry asked, helping himself to a biscuit from the plate on the coffee table.

Hermione frowned. "I'm not sure, really. I've taken the six months leave. I guess I'll just see how time consuming looking after a baby is and see from there how much I can take on, work-wise. I know I'll have to cut down on some of it, of course..."

"Can't see you quitting completely," Harry grinned. "I can't even see you retiring."

"I'm not that bad," Hermione chuckled.

"Oh, you are," Harry smirked, lifting Albus into the air in an attempt to amuse his son.

* * *

><p>Ron didn't know how long he sat there, trawling through the pages. As he moved into the front of the shop he stumbled over a box of Skiving Snackboxes. Cursing, he dusted himself off and began picking up the papers that he had dropped as fell and were now littered all over the floor.<p>

Having gathered them all together, Ron stood up and walked past the fireplace, just as Harry fell out of it.

"Harry!" Ron growled as the papers fell from his hands amidst his shock. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry," Harry gasped. "Look, you've got to come –"

"What?"

"You need to come home. Now."

"Why?"

"What's going on?" George asked, pushing back the curtain leading to the front of the shop.

"Ron needs to take the rest of the day off," Harry informed him.

"Why?" Ron asked again.

"Oh bloody hell, Ron, don't be so thick!" George exclaimed.

"What is going on?" Ron demanded.

"It's Hermione, Ron. The baby's coming now."

* * *

><p><strong>As I said, school starts tomorrow so the next chapter might take a while - last chapter of this story. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	11. Rose Petals Revisited

**Sorry it's been so long, I'm getting so much work this year! **

"Well why didn't you say that?" Ron bellowed. He pushed past Harry and ran to the fireplace, scooping up a handful of Floo Powder and knocking over the pot that contained the powder in the process. Within seconds he had disappeared in flames, leaving Harry and George staring at each other, both wearing bemused expressions on their faces.

* * *

><p>Ron stumbled out of the fireplace to find Hermione sitting on the sofa, bent double, her hands cradling her stomach.<p>

"Hermione!" Ron fell to his knees beside her, taking her hands in his. "Hermione," He pressed her palm to his lips. "Hermione, I'm here. What do you need?"

"A Healer would be a start," Hermione rolled her eyes. "You can be such a _prat_ sometimes, Ronald."

"Right, sorry," Ron said, jumping up and wiping his sweaty hands on his magenta jacket – he hadn't changed from the shop – let's get you to St. Mungo's."

Hermione nodded, visibly bracing herself as Ron pulled her into his arms and carried her to the fireplace, where they Flooed to the hospital.

* * *

><p>"Daddy!" Fred cried, toddling from the kitchen to the front door, stumbling several times on his way.<p>

"'Ello, Freddie!" George grinned, scooping his son into his arms and hoisting him onto his hip. "Where's your Mummy, eh?"

"In the kitchen!" Angelina called. She flicked her wand in the general direction of the sink, smiling in satisfaction as the brushes began to scrub the dishes clean.

"How was your day?" George asked, kissing Angelina on the cheek and setting Fred down on the floor, where he began playing with his toys.

"Brilliant," Angelina said dryly. "Roxanne was crying solidly for two or three hours. I had to pop round to your Mum's and get her to watch Fred here for an hour or so whilst I took Roxanne for a walk. But of course, he thought that'd be a good moment to have a tantrum. It's been a bloody nightmare."

"Sorry," George said helplessly, accepting the plate of dinner Angelina handed him. "I've told you I can take an extra day off work every week. I'm the boss, I can choose my own hours."

"And I've told you no," Angelina said. "They need you. Ron'll be off work soon, won't he? Once Hermione goes into labour."

"About that," George said, smiling smugly. "She went into labour earlier."

Angelina dropped the plastic beaker she'd been holding, sending pumpkin juice over the floor. Sighing, she cleared away the mess with a quick flick of her wand, before turning her attention back to George. "What? When?"

"Calm down," George muttered, shovelling a forkful of rice into his mouth. "Just after we shut up shop. Harry had been with her and he came to tell Ron."

"So," Angelina said, sitting down at the table opposite George. "What's happened? How is she? Any news?"

"Nothing," George said, eyeing Angelina as she pulled Fred onto her lap and held his beaker as he drunk the juice. "I think Ron'll let us know if anything does happen though."

"Does your Mum know?" Angelina asked.

George shook his head. "Not unless Harry or Gin have told her. Which I doubt, they're a bit busy... Do you think I should let her know?"

Angelina nodded earnestly. "Definitely! That's her grandchild about to be born, you know!"

* * *

><p>"That was a waste of bloody time," Hermione grumbled, sitting back in the armchair.<p>

"Mmm," Ron agreed. They had spent half an hour in waiting in St. Mungo's, only to be told that Hermione would have to stay home for another few hours. He sat opposite Hermione, watching her as she read.

"Stop watching me," Hermione snapped after a while, not taking her eyes off the page.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, looking at his feet.

* * *

><p>"Arthur!" Molly cried. "Arthur!"<p>

"What is it, Molly dear?" Arthur asked, placing a leather strip in his book to mark his page and taking off his glasses.

"Hermione's gone into labour!"

Arthur rubbed his eyes. "When?"

"About an hour and a half ago," Molly informed him excitedly. "We should go to St. Mungo's!"

"No," Arthur said wearily, sitting back in his chair.

"What do you mean no?" Molly asked incredulously, flapping her arms around.

"I mean no," Arthur said simply. "It could be hours – or days- until the baby's born. Hermione might not even be at the hospital. Remember when Charlie was born? You spent five or six hours in labour at home, waiting for them to call you in. Why don't you just Floo to Ron's and check up on them there?"

Molly opened her mouth to argue, but nodded reluctantly. She padded into the dining room and knelt down in front of the fireplace.

* * *

><p>"How are you?" Ron asked for what felt like the hundredth time.<p>

"Top of the world," Hermione said dryly, squeezing her eyes shut as another contraction hit.

"Hermione," Ron murmured, striding across the room. She leant her head against his chest. He kissed her head, stroking her shoulders.

"Ron?" Molly called.

Kissing Hermione once more, Ron stepped across the room to the fireplace, bending down in front of it.

"Mum?"

"George told me Hermione's gone into labour," Molly informed him.

"Yes," Ron said. "We went to St Mungo's but the Healer said it could still be a while." He checked his watch. "We've been asked to go back in about a quarter of an hour."

"Okay," Molly said. "I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything."

"Alright, thanks, Mum."

* * *

><p>"You're about to become an Aunty again," Harry half sang as he walked into the kitchen.<p>

Ginny's eyes widened. "You mean-?"

Harry nodded. "Hermione went into labour whilst I was round. She and Ron have gone to St Mungo's, last I heard."

Ginny squealed in excitement, clapping her hands together. "Brilliant!"

* * *

><p>Hermione sat on the hospital bed, her legs dangling off the side of the bed. Ron stood behind her, massaging her shoulders.<p>

"Mrs Weasley?" The Healer, Deidre, glanced at her clipboard, then back at Hermione.

"Yes?" Hermione said tentatively.

"We've encountered a bit of a problem," Deidre said softly.

"What do you mean?" Ron said anxiously. "What do you mean problem?"

"It's just a small hiccup, we'll be able to treat it easily," Deidre reassured him. "The baby is ready to be born, Mrs Weasley."

"Then... what's the problem?" Hermione asked, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt.

"You're not ready to have the baby," Deidre's voice was steady, but Hermione could feel the panic rising from her stomach.

"What's really important," Deidre explained. "Is that you keep calm, Mrs Weasley. We need you to stay calm. If your stress levels rise, the situation will come twice as complicated."

Hermione nodded, making the conscious decision to breathe.

"Now, ordinarily, we'd perform a caesarean. I'm sure you're aware of the Muggle procedure?"

Hermione nodded. Ron, however, shook his head.

"They cut you open," Hermione said bluntly.

"Well... yes," Deidre said. "Anyway, we can't do that because your baby's not really in the right place. Instead, we're going to give you a small injection."

"What'll that do?" Ron asked, unable to keep the tension from his voice.

"It'll inject some hormones into your wife's body, Mr Weasley," Deidre explained. "That'll hopefully prepare her body for giving birth."

"So how long will it be?"

"No more than twelve hours, once we give your wife the injection," Deidre reassure Ron.

"Twelve hours?" Ron said incredulously.

"Twelve hours?" Hermione echoed faintly.

"Twelve hours," Deidre confirmed. "I'll leave you two to yourselves. I'll be back with the injection in five minutes."

"I don't think I can cope with another twelve hours," Hermione sighed, rolling her head onto Ron's chest.

"Come on, baby," Ron murmured, stroking her hair. "You can do this."

* * *

><p>Angelina awoke to the sounds of Roxanne crying from the next room. Noticing that George's side of the bed was deserted, she rolled over and waited for the cries to subside.<p>

Moments after Roxanne fell silent, George came into the bedroom, cradling Roxanne in his arms.

"Ang?" He asked.

"Mm?"

"Have we got any spare nappies?"

"Cabinet under the bathroom sink," Angelina mumbled against her pillow. She was about to fall back into her deep sleep when her brain drew up images from the night before.

"Have you heard from Ron?" She asked, jumping out of bed with sudden energy and following George into the bathroom.

"Nothing," George said, balancing Roxanne somewhat precariously in one arm as he dug around in the cupboard for a spare pack of nappies. "I'm assuming he's not coming into work today, but Kenny and Melissa are in today so it'll be okay."

Angelina nodded. "I'll try and pop into the hospital today. See how they're doing."

"That'd be nice," George nodded, unbuttoning Roxanne's sleepsuit.

* * *

><p>Deidre grabbed a cup of coffee from a machine in the waiting room, gagging at the taste of it. She had been working at St Mungo's for over three years and was yet to get used to the taste of the beverages. Coffee was almost compulsory as a Healer. It was deemed impossible to do night shifts without at least seven espressos.<p>

Deirdre pushed open the doors to the maternity ward, approaching Helen, the Healer she would be taking over from. Helen looked grateful to be relieved from her shift and rushed from the ward, as though worried Deidre would change her mind.

The young Healer looked at the documents Helen had left open on the desk. She sighed. Only two patients were in the ward at six o'clock that morning. One of them had delivered their baby three hours ago. The other had been in labour for just under twelve hours; Hermione Weasley.

Downing the rest of her coffee, Deidre picked up the clipboard and a self-inking quill from the desk and went into the private room she knew Mrs Weasley was accommodating.

"Hello, Mrs Weasley," She smiled. "I'm back on shift. How are you feeling?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Hermione snapped. "It's obvious I'm in pain and I'm tired, I've been in labour for twelve bloody hours."

"Of course, Mrs Weasley," Deidre said, trying to keep her expression neutral as Ron pulled faces behind Hermione's back. "Now, I'm going to check you over and we'll see if you're ready to deliver your baby, okay?"

"Okay," Hermione sighed, rolling her head back onto her pillows. She'd been checked every hour throughout the night, nothing ever changed.

* * *

><p>"Still no news from Hermione then?" Harry asked, watching as Ginny sat on their bed, nursing Albus.<p>

"Nothing," Ginny said. "I'm sure we'd have heard if she'd had the baby. We're going to be godparents, after all."

Harry looked at her. "Have they asked you?"

"No."

"Then how do you know we're going to be godparents?" Harry laughed.

"We'd better be," Ginny said darkly. "We made them James'."

"I'm not sure it works that way," Harry grinned, dropping a kiss on Ginny's forehead before going to give James breakfast.

* * *

><p>"Well, Mrs Weasley," Deidre said, jotting something down on her clipboard. "You're ready."<p>

"What?" Ron and Hermione both said together.

"You're ready," Deidre repeated. "Let's go and have this baby, eh?"

"RONALD WEASLEY!" Hermione screamed, clutching at Ron's hands so that her nails dug into his flesh. "DON'T YOU EVER COME NEAR ME AGAIN."

"I won't," Ron muttered.

"I MEAN IT," Hermione shouted. "NEVER EVER EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN."

"We have a head," Deidre informed them over Hermione's shouts and screams. "One more push, Mrs Weasley, and this'll all be over."

"Come on, Hermione," Ron murmured, stroking her hair.

Hermione let out one more shout and then strangled cries began to fill the room. Hermione fell back on the bed, beaming.

"Congratulations," Deidre said. She looked at Ron. "Would you like to cut the cord?"

"Err..." Ron hesitated. "No. No thanks. I'm not very good with all that – stuff. No, it's better I stay up this end."

"Understood," Deidre said, winking at Hermione, who laughed.

Within seconds, Hermione was handed a bundle wrapped in blankets.

"It's a girl," Deidre told her, smiling.

"A girl," Hermione echoed, a lump forming in her throat. "Shh," She comforted her newborn baby, moving her arms slightly in what she hoped was a soothing motion.

"Do you have a name yet?" Deidre asked, bent over her clipboard once more.

"N-" Ron started, but Hermione interrupted him.

"I was thinking Rose," She said.

"Rose?" Ron asked. "Why Rose?"

"We have a rather nice rose bed in the garden," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows pointedly at Ron.

"Oh!" Ron said, comprehension dawning on him. "Rose. Rose Weasley."

Hermione smiled, shifting in the bed so that Ron could sit down next to her. Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead. His other hand lay on Rose.

"Well done, baby," He whispered into her ear.

"You too," Hermione smiled.

In that moment, Hermione knew it had all been worth it. Worth the mood swings, the sickness, the fights with Ron, the pain of labour... everything. She wouldn't have missed this for the world. She had Rose, her Rose, and everything was perfect.

**Well, that's it! I hope you've enjoyed reading this, I've loved writing it :) Thanks for all the reviews and support! **

**Also, just to let you know that any stories I write in the future, I will complete before I upload the first chapter, so you don't have to deal with long gaps between chapters and crappy writing standard :)**


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